of cologne, and
coming close to the bedside, bent over me, so that her great, black eyes
almost touched mine. Had they been a pair of pistols, I could not have
recoiled with greater terror.

"Don't!" again I murmured,--"I am very weak."

"Hush! I am going to put you to sleep."

Pouring the cologne in her hand, till it dripped all over the
counterpane and pillow, she deluged my hair, and patted my forehead as
she would a colt's that she wanted to stand still. In mute despair I
submitted to her _tender mercies_, certain I should die, if some one did
not come to my relief, when the door softly opened, and Mrs. Linwood
entered.

"Heaven be praised," thought I,--I had not strength to say it. Tears of
weariness and vexation were mingling with the drops with which she had
saturated my hair.

"Margaret," said Mrs. Linwood, in a tone of serious displeasure, "what
have you been doing? I left her in a sweet sleep, and now I find her
wan, tearful, and agitated. You will worry her into a relapse."

"All she needs now is cheerful company, I am sure," she answered
demurely; "you all make her so tender and baby-like, she never will have
any strength again. I've been as soft as a cooing dove. Dr. Harlowe
would have been delighted with me."

"You _must_ go, Margaret, indeed you must. _You_ may think yourself a
dove, but others have a different opinion."

"Going, going, gone!" she cried, giving me a vehement kiss and
vanishing.

The consequence of this energetic visit was a relapse; and Dr. Harlowe
was as angry as his nature admitted when he learned the cause.

"That wild-cat must not remain here," said he, shaking his head. "She
will kill my gentle patient. Where did you find her, Mrs. Linwood? From
what menagerie has she broken loose?"

"She is the daughter of an early and very dear friend of mine," replied
Mrs. Linwood, smiling; "a very original and independent young lady, I
grant she is."

"What in the world did you bring her here for?" asked the doctor
bluntly; "I intend to chain her, while my child is sick."

"She wished to make a visit in the country, and I thought her wild
good-humor would be a counterpoise to the poetry and romance of
Grandison Place."

"You have other more attractive and tractable guests. You will not
object to my depriving you for a short time of her. May I invite her
home with me?"

"Certainly,--but she will not accept the invitation. She is not
acquainted with Mrs. Harlowe."

"That make